


Compulsive

by CieraDarlene



Series: The Losers Club (Modern College AU) [9]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Not enough Stan in the AU, Stan and Mike's major bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CieraDarlene/pseuds/CieraDarlene
Summary: “Mom, mom,” Stan grabbed his mom's hand. For a neurotypical, she sure is anxious. “I’m fine.” Stan said.His mom gave him a familiar sympathetic smile. Andrea Uris didn’t believe that, she knew better. He’d never really been fine. At first she thought it was anxiety. Her son would have meltdowns when she’d move his things to unnecessarily dust his already spotless dresser. He hated going to school, he didn’t stop fidgeting or moving. She was at a loss. Until a therapist said three letters.





	Compulsive

Living in the same city as your university is typically regarded as a convenience. Not for Stanley, though. He lived at home for one semester before applying for residence on campus. Why? Well, certainly not because of his parents. You’d think it’d be that simple; A gay, jewish 20 year old living with his priest father? A recipe for disaster. However, that’s not the case. The case, rather, is that Stanley couldn’t handle public transportation. 

 

The final straw was the day he got on the subway to find someone was in his spot. Now, you may be wondering.  _ His spot? _ Yes, his spot: 2 rows down, against the window. The only way he could even fathom trying to get downtown to his university was if he made it into an exact routine. Take the 6:15am train, get on the first cart, on the end closest to the second cart, sit in the second row from the door he got on and sit on the left to the window. He’d done it every day for 2 weeks, and managed to do it near flawlessly every day, but there he was, 6:12, waiting for the train. It didn’t come until 2:17, and that was the first issue.  _ Then _ , he gets on the train and someone is sat in  _ his  _ spot. 

 

_ No problem _ , Stanley had tried to calm his own nerves.  _ Just ask him to move _ . 

 

It was an older man, looking rather grumpy which had already unnerved Stanley. He approached anyway, and tentatively spoke up. 

 

“I’m sorry, sir, would it be possible for you to sit on the opposite side?” Stanley gestured to the seat across from his.

 

The man’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?” 

 

“I-“ Stanley sighed, knowing he was about to sound like a lunatic. Though, he swallowed his pride and continued. “That’s my spot.”

 

“Last time I checked this was a public train.” The man responded cooly. 

 

In that moment Stanley felt his nerves fraying, coming undone under his skin. His breath faltered. 

 

“Please, sir, the cart is empty, it’s not an inconvenience to move.” 

 

It was no use. The man wasn’t moving. And that’s all that Stanley remembered before waking up in a hospital. A weird sequence of events, I know. How did Stanley go from asking a grumpy man to move seats to waking up in a hospital? Easy, his routine was dismantled in the matter of seconds and the only way his body knew how to cope was by shutting down; Though not after it cut off his air supply, causing Stan to hyperventilate. A woman on the train panicked and pressed the emergency button, which brought the train to a halt and alerted authorities. At this point Stanley was unresponsive and bordering unconscious. 

 

When he came to in a hospital, he felt a sense of comfort. Stanley has always liked hospitals because he likes their regiment. He doesn’t have to worry there. After he woke up, he spotted his mother, and as he did she noticed he was awake. 

 

“Oh, Stanley!” She gasped, standing to be nearer to him. “You gave me a real start. I was at the bank when the hospital called to tell me you’d been admitted into the hospital. I rushed right over. Your dad couldn’t leave work.” 

 

Stanley grinned. “You didn’t need to come. It’s nothing new.” Stan shrugs. 

 

He was right - well, kind of. He hadn’t collapsed on the train before, but panic attacks that landed him in the emergency room were not uncommon. In third grade, during his library period, Stanley was thrown into a cold sweat, tearing textbooks off the shelves and rearranging them, but he couldn’t finish because the library assistant angrily ripped him away from his pile of books. This is what triggered the attack, the first attack to land him in the hospital.

 

“I knew you shouldn’t be taking the train, I told your father but he wouldn’t listen. I should’ve taken you to the psychiatrist to get your Clomipramine prescription upped.”

 

“Mom, mom,” Stan grabbed his mom's hand. For a neurotypical, she sure is anxious. “I’m  _ fine _ .” Stan said. 

 

His mom gave him a familiar sympathetic smile. Andrea Uris didn’t believe that, she knew better. He’d never  _ really _ been fine. At first she thought it was anxiety. Her son would have meltdowns when she’d move his things to unnecessarily dust his already spotless dresser. He hated going to school, he didn’t stop fidgeting or moving. She was at a loss. Until a therapist said three letters. 

 

OCD. 

 

She has had Stanley on several different medications throughout his life, some of which helped but made her son into a whole different person. So they settle for what works best without changing the person he truly was. 

 

As it turns out, it doesn’t work enough. 

 

So Stanley moves to campus residency. His mother still upped his prescription. 

 

Stan’s roommate is a solid fit. Mike Hanlon. He’s quiet, friendly, but most importantly, he doesn’t fuck with Stan’s things. He pushes Stan out of his comfort zone because somehow he figured out how to diffuse a panic attack. Not that Mike forces Stanley to do things he knows Stanley can’t handle, but he likes experiencing things with Stan. And to be honest, Stanley likes experiencing things with Mike. 

 

The words, “If you weren’t straight I’d be in love with you.” and “If I were gay I’d totally date you.” are exchanged on a daily. Their mutual friends refer to them as “their favourite interracial couple.” 

 

“You two argue like a married couple.”

 

“We might as well be married, we live together and he pays for my Postmates.” Mike laughs, throwing an arm around Stanley’s shoulders.

 

“Gotta look after my wife, you know.” Stanley jokes.

 

“ _ I’m clearly _ the husband in this relationship.”

 

Stanley still goes home all the time, but he takes an uber everywhere because at least he knows he can always sit by the window in an Uber. 

 

“Why don’t you just get your license?” Mike deadpanned as they studied.

 

“Mike, I’m gay, I don’t drive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any depictions of OCD are kind of based on my own relationship with OCD, just amplified because there isn't enough drama in high-functioning OCD.
> 
> Also I just really want Stan to be That Gay™, and I love a good old-fashioned bromance.


End file.
